


Nature Vs Nurture (And When Something Has To Give)

by ozsia



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Blood and Gore, Death, Depression, Gen, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6360244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsia/pseuds/ozsia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a constant raging battle but it was a battle that had to be fought; a battle with the mafia and their greed and violence. A war to destroy what should be long since dead. If he killed himself in the process of doing what he had promised himself, if his Flame burnt out protecting his precious people than...so be it. </p><p>It was a sacrifice he was willing to make even if everyone around him wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature Vs Nurture (And When Something Has To Give)

The smell of iron was so thick it amounted to a raising of fog so terrible in its stench and wrenched in how it reminded him, of the lifeblood that had been spilled with people oozing away. Like the red which coated his hands and seeped into his own skin.

Idly Tsuna wondered - as he stared from his crimson gloves to the still people littering the ground - where they started, and where he began. It wasn't something that would ever answer itself, nor would he discover the solution when he was the cause of the problem.

Philosophical he was not, sentimental and desperate for something more however he could be guilty of. Sometimes, after one too many glasses of – what had Xanxus given him? Alcohol in any case - Tsunayoshi found himself thinking it would have been better if he would have never been born.

The pain and suffering he had handed out was not something he took lightly, or could.

Tsuna's body bent, or stumbled as his whole leg seized and sent him to the floor because it was too much to ask to come away uninjured. The ground more rubble than carpet was now, too, a part of these lost people, because it was wet: damp in blood, theirs and his alike.

Tsuna glanced upwards in confusion, frowning as to why he was so low down. Feeling faint and weak when his ember eyes suddenly found themselves too close to a face that was twisted in fear, grey orbs sightless as they stared upwards.

His breath was lost to him.

' _You're a disgrace! How dare you_ mock  _the Primo! –_

_Vongola was strong under the Ninth's rule, all you've done is make us weak –_

_You_ understand  _nothing! You should never have come into our world! –_

_Think you're so holy? You're a terrible Sky! -_

_How is this_ possible?.!  _Monster - you're a_ _ **Monster**_ _!'_

A shuddered rippled through Tsuna: a shiver that started from his very core and palpitated through him, like a stone hitting the surface of a pool of water. He could feel his face start to prickle and sting which was warning enough that he would need to be alone very soon. But not yet: they were coming for him – he knew, they couldn't be far now. They must be close.

It wasn't safe to release yet.

There was bile at the back of his throat that Tsuna swallowed doggedly and looked back to the man; to the person whose name he didn't know and he reached forward with a wounded cry. Too loud, as the sound echoed eerily throughout the ruins. A banshee's song, as he saw once again the blood which coated his skin: the proof of what he had done, he viciously ripped the glove from his hand, uncaring about where it was flung and repeated his motions to his other.

His ring stayed on his finger stubbornly by tearing through the stiff protective leather of his glove and popping the joint of his finger.

The blow Tsuna dealt to himself forced his stomach to coil inside but he forced his breath to calm, to harsh pants and while fighting back tears, released the hand which he had injured from the other's grasp. He didn't care enough to look. To assess the damage and instead, again, extended his hand.

He almost jolted back when he touched the man's skin as it was still warm. However he couldn't help but feel that though the man still felt  _there_ physically,that there was something absent – something different from…people who were still breathing.

Tsuna grimaced, eyes closing so firmly that it hurt while flashes of –  _people_  past by his eyes. The people who he had burned into his vision, those he would never forget though he wished… _Kami-Sama_ he  _wished_ he could. The people who he had, had to hurt in order to help.

To be released of this burden. This terrible, terrible burden was something which he did not deserve.

Because despite his good intentions: to save those he cared about from living harshly. To protect the friends and family he dragged with him along the way. To destroy the underworld and replace it with something illegitimate. Those wishes didn't make this right and never would though.

Tsuna looked back to the man who would never go home, who would never again greet his family or go on the next big adventure. How much would this man miss out on? The dreams that would go unfulfilled?

Determinedly, he guided fragile eyelids downwards with his palm while being careful not to injury the man further than he had already and slowly removed his hand. The distressed expression seemed to fall away; loosen, and leave only sleep in its wake.

Moving backwards by shuffling awkwardly on his knees, his stomach protested as it jerked upwards. His constitution was still weak and all he could think was that he had _to keep swallowing!_ It would do no good to lose whatever he had eaten yesterday. The one time he had it had sent everyone into such a panic: Hayato had fussed for days, Takeshi's sharp eyes would follow him, Lambo fretted as only teenagers did – so much  _worry_ over something so…pathetic.

'Decimo!'

He reared back: realising that there was a herd of footfalls behind him, something that he hadn't heard until now. His pupils were blown wide and his muscles tensed in stress as he stilled for but a second, listening as what could only be his friends come to a stop not far from this disaster.

He scrambled to his feet, spinning on his heels with all the grace of a drunk man when Tsuna's mind started to comprehend that he hadn't seen them since they had gotten separated. His bangs clipping his eyes as he turned though he paid little attention as he looked from Hayato, to behind where Kyouya had come to a halt.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

A sudden breath left him: all there…they were all there!

Hysteria bubbles in his throat and he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry but knew that either would be very bad, especially when they were all watching him so warily. No, no good.

'Dō yatte -' he stuttered as he tried to remember: remember how to talk and which language to speak; by their expression he was already doing this wrong. He shook his head: _Italian_. They were in _Italy_. 'Is everyone uninjured?'

Ryohei stepped forward, his large hands free from his usually wrappings more telling than any words as the man, who had mellowed out over the years – or who had been forced to mellow out - nodded but his gaze was calculating as it took in the area, and then to the swaying brunet.

'Fine. Chrome managed to get hit but that's been extremely taken care of, everyone's okay if tired. Everyone but you, Tsuna.'

Tsuna. Ryohei only used "Tsuna" when he was worried.

A weak smile pulled at Tsuna's lips, forced and more than pained as he looked over his Guardians, lingering on Chrome who  _did_ look fine stood between Mukuro and the resident doctor. 'That's… that's such a relief.'

The fear, the absolute dread that one day… well, it wasn't even worth going there. It'd kill him. Tsuna had devoted his life to these people – and in a way, the Mafia – if something hurt them… the wrath he would serve out, it would be worse then anything the Underworld had seen yet.

Just the prospect of that sorrow and grief...Tsuna was under no delusion that it would destroy him.

'Yeah don't mind us Tsuna,' Takeshi reassured as if sensing the line of his thoughts were going down. 'We looked after each other: like you told us to.'

Tsuna nods because the sentiment's appreciated more than they should ever know, but there are no words that came to him as he stared, probably more than he should have if their worried faces were anything to go by. Just drinking them up like he had gone years without.

'Tsuna… are you alright? A part from the knife to your leg of course.' Despite Hayato's position Takeshi was always the one who spoke with the Guardian's "voice", so Tsuna knew that they were more than concerned when he asked -

Wait. Knife?

Startled Tsuna looked down. His vision was somewhat disoriented so it took a minute or two before he could focus on the black hilt protruding from his thigh. Oh.  _Oh._

As if now knowing that it was being given the attention it needed, his knees began to buckle. Was that what had been giving him trouble? He didn't remember the attack that had given it to him.

Tsuna grit his teeth and concentrated on staying on his feet even as he said: 'No mind,' with a careless hand wave. 'I'm fine,' he stated.

Mukuro looked uncharacteristically serious as he stared in a way that unnerved Tsuna. 'Which part of you, Tsunayoshi-kun? The bleeding leg or broken  _heart_?'

'Mukuro-sama.' Chrome said in warning but there was no disagreement that Tsuna could see, which made him more uncomfortable as she looked towards him. 'Really though, Bossu, it's… it's okay not to be okay.'

There was a lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe without the need to cry. Tsuna hadn't felt "okay" in a very long time. He can't recall when the last time he just felt "normal" had been and those years were taking their toll.

'W-what are you talking about Chrome? I  _am_ okay' Tsuna said with a certainty that he most definitely didn't feel, standing in a wasteland which destruction he was responsible for.

Tsuna was strong now: alleged to be the strongest in the Mafia (to which Fuuta's rankings agreed with, having come a long,  _long_ way in that estimate). His speed was astounding and he knew how to take a hit and get back up again. He was a lot more academic; had studied to the point of insanity with five languages under his belt, and had the teachings of psychology, sociology, politics and the arts - just to name a few – grained into his brain with a sharp, steel heel.

It helped that he had loyal friends and family who would stick by him and trust in his word through thick or thin.

Kyouya's raised eyebrow showed how unimpressed by that statement he really was. 'Don't be such a herbivore Sawada, Tsunayoshi. Even carnivores need to take the time to lick their wounds.'

Dame-Tsuna was the weakest kid that you could come across: a "herbivore" and utterly defenceless. Failing both intellectually and physically and didn't have a friend to his name. But that Tsuna – that Tsuna wouldn't, or rather couldn't, hurt someone. That Tsuna didn't blackmail governments or close businesses. That Tsuna didn't  _hurt people_.

'I thought we agreed that I was neither.' Tsuna shrugged while he shifted his weight, as he attempted to divert their attention. Kyouya just narrowed his eyes.

Hayato made an annoyed noise in the back of throat, sounding like he had enough and made to come toward Tsuna until the brunet threw his hands into the air. 'W-Wait!' Tsuna snapped with some of the alarm he processed leaking through the gaps, but on seeing Hayato's shocked expression, hurriedly continued. 'I-I don't…want you to slip!' He exclaimed clumsily.

'D-Decimo?' Hayato blinked, frozen where he had stopped and staring at the figure of his boss who was struggling to stay upright, but who apparently didn't want any help.

'I –' Tsuna glanced off in the other direction. 'Has the – is the backup on route yet?'

Hayato got an expression of long term suffering but there has hurt there too as he straightened, one lofty hand coming up to drag his hair away from his face. 'Yes. They'll be at our position in twenty.' He winced, 'there's been some confusion at headquarters: I'll fix that when we get back.'

Tsuna nods distractedly, just glad that Hayato's stop his advance. Tsuna hates being around them afterwards. After terrible battles, he just can't bare to be in their company. It makes him feel that he was dirtying them with his -  _filth_.

Protecting had a price after all and he had paid up front.

And Tsuna had been so sure. So goddamn sure when the mantle had been thrust upon him, that he realised what he was getting into, what he knew the cost that it would entail.

'Something to do with the lag in our systems?' Tsuna asked numbly.

His hands were so dirty now. He'd washed and washed but he knew that the blood would never be cleaned away. Tsuna had promised to destroy the Mafia and though he was getting there – he  _would_  do it – it would take time and he'd make a great many enemies, more than he had now.

However he also had people he had to look after, and _that_  complicated the whole thing ten fold.

'Apologises, Decimo. Shuuichi had been sure that by using the new tower, our firewalls would strengthen however it seems to be at the cost of our communication.' Hyatt responded dutifully.

Reputation, Tsuna had learnt from Reborn, could make or break a person. Everything from someones outfit to the way they spoke could and  _would_ be judged.

He had come into the Mafia clearly and without hesitance as "Neo Primo" because if he has to be in this bloody world he'd do it under that name: a name people would know – remember and realise the purpose behind.

'What will need to be done to get our communications network back up to - to full...full com -' Tsuna stuttered, struggling even when the Japanese equivalent appeared for him mockingly.

There'd be no atoning for this but if he could give it some purpose...

'Capacity, Decimo.' Hayato gently finishes as Tsuna's tongue gets caught up in knots. 'I've looked into it, and I'm pretty sure I have an idea but I don't think we should to talk about it here. Graveyard or not.'

Some sort of purpose more than corruption and greed...

'...Ah.' Tsuna's eyes tried to narrow down on Hayato's lips but could only catch certain words in the end. 'Alright. I'll leave it to you, Hayato.'

Corruption and greed filled with men and women whose only care was making a profit. Not a thought for the lives they were destroying. Makes sense it was called the "Underworld" when you were either evil or dead when you got there.

'Of course, Decimo. I will not fail you.'

...Where had he been going with that? He had, had a point...hadn't he? What -

'-una! Tsuna!' Startled, Tsuna looked back up. His thoughts were slowing, and it felt like he was wading through sewage in order to keep up.

Tsuna blinked slowly, tiredly and looked towards the voice who was calling him. Old eyes. Faltering smiles. Scars. Takeshi. He had a frown tugging on his lips and a crease on his brow: an expression Tsuna put on that face.

'A-ah. Sorry. I was thinking about the documents I'd have to fill out.' Tsuna lied uneasily. Couldn't say he was dizzy (blood loss,) couldn't tell them he felt sick (guilt). It'd only cause worry.

...though paperwork...

The Italian police would know it was Vongola responsible so Tsuna would have to be quick, in...in releasing the family's blackened history. It's records for human trafficking and drugs. He really didn't want his relationship with the Italian government to go back to the way it was when he had first moved to Italy.

Hayato's frown deepened. And Tsuna couldn't help but feel a bit bitter. No one ever believed him anymore. 'Decimo you're injured and I'm sure we're all tired. That can wait till we rest.' He said as he once again started to make his way towards his boss.

'I – I don't want an angry police sergeant knocking down my door, Hayato,' Tsuna protested as he took a not so subtle step back for every one his Guardian took. Swallowing over the painful lump of his throat, he tried to still the trembling of his lips. Dammit! He couldn't break down here! Not again. Not in front of them.

'By the time we leave there won't be much to connect this place to Vongola, never mind you.' Hayato argued in a way that his younger self would be horrified with. 'You need medical attention.'

Tsuna shook his head frantically, feeling more and more panicky the closer that Hayato got to him: the closer that his friend got close to the blood and the...the destruction.

'Tsuna, the more you walk on that leg, the more time it'll take to extremely heal.' Ryohei stated, wincing himself when Tsuna put more pressure on his injured side but didn't move forward to help. He understood that if Gokudera wasn't having any luck, he wouldn't either.

'I – I'm fine!' Tsuna stuttered while the tempo of his heart rose to an unhealthy degree. His gaze flickered to each of his Guardians, and he started to feel unreasonably trapped within the close quarters and utterly surrounded by – people, because he couldn't call them anything else. People. _People._ _PeoplePeoplePeoplePeoplePeoplePeoplePeople._

Oh Kami-sama the  _people._

What  _has he done?.!_

'And here I didn't think you like to lie.' Mukuro said with an expression that might as well be made of marble with its stony exterior, slits for eyes and mouth set dangerously.

Dammit! Why was this so difficult?.! If he said he was fine then he was absolutely fine! Perfectly fine in fact!

'Tsuna.' Takeshi said suddenly, his palms raised in the air calmingly. 'You need to calm down.'

Had he said that out loud? Takeshi hesitantly nodded. Oh but for the Seven Hells why couldn't he do anything right?!

'I  _am_ calm!' Tsuna snapped in a fit of anxiety, feeling very harassed only to freeze as soon as the words had left his mouth. 'O-oh – T-Takeshi...'

He never -  _never_ took his temper out on his friends. Tsuna's hand rose to his mouth but it didn't quite make it as it hovered just before his lips, staring at Takeshi's stunned expression and knew he was seeing a mirror image. Tsuna's eyes filled in distress and he desperately fought to keep them from filling as he looked to his swordsman: where the man had one hand resting on the hilt of Shigure Kintoki where it would stay until they were all somewhere deemed safe, and the other tense.

'Tsuna...'

'I-I'm sorry…' Tsuna whispered without the strength to raise it higher. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Tsuna,' Takeshi said with a shake of his head. 'I think...we're all a bit...uptight waiting around here...ne?'

The flash of a Japanese accent was so familiar to Tsuna, for a moment he felt homesick. (Or just sick.) Takeshi's tone was a balm to his nerves as he nodded robotically: desperate for something to grab hold of.

Takeshi's eyes glowed an electric blue even if they we were tranquil. The air shifted subtly around him, gaining moisture and texture that Tsuna's mind could no longer identify in its tired state.

'We're all tired and a bit sore. Just a bit. We're all fine: we're all gonna be fine but...rest sounds nice, ne? Together, so we're looking after each other like you want, yeah?'

And suddenly a great weight had been lifted from Tsuna's shoulders and his stomach muscles uncoiled, his back loosening from where it had been ramrod straight.

'Everything else - everyone else can wait a bit while we rest, right? It'd be no big deal. After all, we all need to look after each other, don't we? I bet a few hours... a couple of days... a week...no one would notice, would they.'

Whatever had been holding Tsuna up left abruptly. Takeshi's hypnotic, soothing voice washing over him as the world started to tip; the floor rocking and the walls turning.

'Gotcha!' Tsuna jarred and he can't stop how he urges as he instantly tries to coil inwards. He's pressed up against something solid and he just gets the rift of cigarettes, when he recognises the hands that touch him for what they are.

Tsuna's eyes snap open (when had they closed?) he's met with his Hayato's delicate teal eyes. When he gotten so close?! Tsuna was sure that he had kept them back...when...

'Shh...' Takeshi's next to him now and Tsuna barely gets to glance in his direction before Takeshi's lowering a Flame soaked hand onto his forehead.

And it doesn't take anytime for his vision to start tunnelling. Shadows are dancing.

'Wait - Takeshi - no -' Tsuna tries to say.

 _Struggle! Fight!_ The darkness can't...

'Stop talking, Tsunayoshi, and allow yourself the same weakness you afford the herbivores in your Pride.'

Tsuna can barely see Kyouya but...heavy - he looks so heavy - help, Tsuna needs to...

'Geez, Tsuna- _nii_ you're so stubborn. Just be a big boy and take a break would you? Then maybe Bakadera will let me get some shut eye too.'

Lambo...so young - too young. Shouldn't see - see this, or him - so weak...

'For the Seven Hells, close those eyes. Before  _you_  see something unpleasant.'

...Pineapple? No - not right - threatening him - Mukuro...

'Just rest Bossu, we'll take care of the rest.'

Another one? Sweeter - kinder. So tired...

'That's it, Tsuna. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you'll be able to fill in your paperwork. I know you extremely look forward to it.' Brother - big - wrong. Paper was...

'Now lets have a look at that...leg - oh. Oh. Shit.'


End file.
